Dean and Jo - Son of a Bitch!
by ANerdyFangirl394
Summary: Dean gives in and mourns Jo's death - right until she comes back. From then on they celebrate together instead - until a major issue with Demons occurs. Fluff, small angst and smut - Rated M for sexual content and language. First story, feedback welcome.
1. Too Late, Right?

This is my first one guys, I'm going to update as often as I can, it's going member a multichapter one I guess! Dean and Jo everybodymad from Supernatural. Um, the first chapter will be the saddest, it gets happier don't worry :)

Dean heaved a sigh, and slowly walked towards the small house next to the burnt remains of the roadhouse. His heart thumped. He didn't know why he was here, or what to expect. He knew that Jo and Ellen were dead, he knew that nothing but bittersweet memories would be here, but he came here anyway.

Maybe it was because he needed to feel something, finally, and let his emotions loose. Or maybe it was because he needed a simple reminder of a happier time. A happier place. A happier soul trapped inside his aching, exhausted body. A time where he could suppress love and lust for his work, but look forward to the next time. The next time Ellen would welcome him and his brother in, clap them on the back and pour them a beer. The next time Jo would walk in, swinging her tiny hips and brush her blond locks behind her ear. The next time, he would sit, and make eye contact with her - and that one moment of recognition would send something much stronger than butterflies to his stomach. The next time the four of them, with maybe Bobby and Ash, would just laugh and relax and rejoice over the people they had saved. Dean was looking to remember the time when he had a safe haven, in the midst of the world and its chaos. When he had a family of sorts, where he was loved and respected. Dean missed the old Sam. Dean missed the old Dean. Dean missed Ellen with a serious pang, and Jo with a constant, grinding ache. Most of all, Dean missed the knowledge that they were all there to go home to. That they were all still there. Dean missed all of it, and as he reached the porch of the house next to the roadhouse, he sat on the steps and put his head in his rough hands. He ruffled his hair back, and felt a lump slowly form in his throat. At first he tried to push back the emotions, and fight this urge to cry, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop missing the Harvelles. And he couldn't stop thinking about the emptiness that lay in his stomach, his head, his heart.

What broke Dean down, was when he remembered Jo letting him kiss her. She was dying, and he let his soft, supple lips press against her forehead. And then, those two beautiful pink lips he had been desperate to kiss for so long. It should have been a moment of joy, release and excitement. Instead, he had felt extreme sorrow, and anger at himself. He could have done something earlier, told her he loved her. Kissed her, loved her, talked to her. He could have saved her, if he only acknowledged he loved her. But he left it too late. She died. He lived. But what was this living? How was this pain life?

"It serves me right." Dean whispered to himself. "I was too damn late." His eyes slowly glazed over with tears. He could no longer see, so he blinked, and the first fat tear drop spilled over. "I WAS TOO LATE! I MISSED HER AND NOW SHE'S DEAD!" He screamed, and then something in him broke. So Dean cried. And cried. And cried. He sobbed, shoulders heaving, green eyes streaming, loss pounding at every inch of him. "She's fucking gone and I'm left missing her." He whispered again. He leaned his head back against the door, and carried on crying. He let go of his tight grip on his emotional reins and continued to cry, scream and sob. Strangely, a kind of relief entered his system, he could just accept his loss. He could cry. Sam wasn't here to give him a concerned glance. Bobby wasn't here to punch him and tell him to man up. He was fine, until he remembered that Jo wasn't here to hug him better, either. So he continued to sob in the way that no one had ever seen Dean Winchester sob, and hurt in the way that no one would have imagined Dean Winchester could.


	2. Real, Alive, Here

It was hours later, when exhausted, Dean Winchester fell asleep on the porch, aching, hurting, and remembering. It was hours later when, a young, slim, blond woman, wearing a black vest and skinny jeans, stepped out of her old car, and walked towards a man asleep on her porch. It was hours later, that Jo Harvelle found Dean Winchester collapsed, tear tracks staining his roughly shaved face, ridiculously beautiful, and crouched down to touch his shoulder.

Dean shifted, and awoke to see his dream girl, crouched over him, shaking him gently. For a moment, he took in her deep, thoughtful brown eyes, her pale, smooth skin, her amazing figure, and hey - he couldn't help but notice - slight cleavage showing. Her beautiful hands, resting on his shoulder, her slim arms, reaching out to him, and best of all : her melodic voice, calling his name, Dean revelled in it for a moment, before sitting up, and realisation washed over him. He grabbed his silver knife, jumped upand slashed her arm. She wasn't a shifter. He shoved her backwards into the trough of holy water. She wasn't a demon. He gripped her arms and lifted her up, looking deep at her. She wasn't a mirage.

"Am I...dead?" He asked her, confusion and hurt smacking into him. Hurt because, she couldn't be real. Hurt because, this punch in his gut was from looking at her wonderful face, but also knowing that he would wake up soon, or she would turn, and he would have to deal with her death all over again. Hurt, finally, because she whipped around and slapped his face hard, stinging all over his face.

"What?" He said. He meant to be angry, but all he could do was drink in her appearance, voice and stance, and try and take in as much detail before she vanished. She, however, had blood dripping down her arm, was soaking wet, and - damn. She couldn't deny the joy that came from seeing him. And the way his eyes latched onto hers, those amazing, unreal green eyes that she could stare into for ever - if she wasn't busy telling him off.

"You. Just. Cut. Soaked. And. Grabbed. Me. You deserve a slap frankly." She said, cuffing his ear. He still looked at her, a man who has been in the dark for years, stepping into the sun. Trying to see how real she was, if his eyes were just deceiving him. If he had finally gone mad. But the madness was preferable to the pain before, so he played along. "Jo." He whispered, roughly. "You're dead. So why are we here?" Something in Jo broke a little at the plain hurt in his face. She had never seen him so open. So easy to read, he was hurting. And he missed her, and beyond anything he wanted to believe she was real.

She took a step in, and gently stroked his stubbly face, his rough cheeks, his perfect skin. "I'm back. For real. I'm alive. Something, or someone brought me back. Mum as well. For like. Three months now. You had vanished. But I'm here now, and real. And alive. And so are you." With that, she gripped his hand, and brought it to lie flat on her chest, he could feel her heart, beating steady. He looked straight into her eyes, and she looked back. He decided he wasn't mad after all. Maybe this was reality, as no madness could creat this much tension, excitement and longing. They stood, locked in this position, for what felt like a long time. Jo seemed to breathe in a nervous sigh, that hitched in her throat. "Your heart rate is speeding up." Dean said, in his deep voice. Jo leaned in, and said, with an almost steady voice, "Thats because I'm nervous about what I'm about to do next." Before Dean could question her, she put one hand around his back, one against his face, and pushed him back against the wooden walls of the small house. Without thinking, she leaned in, and passionately kissed him.

Dean gripped her face, and kissed her back, hard. One hand then slid down the side of her body, and rested on her hip, the other curled around her neck, crushing her face to his. They stood, kissing each other hard, running their hand though each others hair, over one another's body, and while catching a breath here and there, whispering each others names. Jo leaned in more, crushing herself against his hard, muscled chest and stomach. He nibbled on her lip gently, while stroking down her back. She moaned into his mouth, and he responded by tilting her chin and kissing her neck. His hands now rested on her ribcage, and hers ran through his perfect, sandy hair. She wanted him, and she knew she did, and something inside told her that he wanted her as well, a lot. Or...it might not have been something inside - it could possibly have been the impact of his groin tightening, stiffening against her as she continued to kiss him, that could have been a pointer. She pulled back still feeling his hair, and chuckled lightly. Her arms crossed around his neck, stooping him down, bringing her, and her quickly rising chest, closer to his face.

"Dammit Winchester, you've still got it." She said, her nose touching his, breathing heavily. He gave a throaty laugh, and pecked her lips gently.

"Jo. You can't say.." He leant in and gave her a longer kiss. "...anything, when you could be kissing me like this." She winked and whispered to him, right in his ear. "We could always do more than kiss Dean." Dean groaned and pulled her face around to his, and kissed her again. She still had him up against the wall, fingers tripping down his muscled stomach. One hand slid slowly inside and down the front of his jeans. Dean gasped as he realised what she was about to do. "Jo." He moaned. She leaned up, as her hand slid down, and kissed his ear, the side of his face, and again, his lips. Jo was just about to make the contact Dean was longing for when another car engine sounded and pulled into the drive.

They both froze, looking at each other, surprise, panic and lust, mixing into a strange whirlwind of emotions, slowing their reactions down. Two cars doors slammed. "OI." A voice yelled. Jo and Deans eyes widened a little. "Son of a bitch!" He muttered, before dragging his eyes away from his beautiful girls face, and looking down at Ellen Harvelle. Ellen looked a mix of happy, angry, resigned and relieved. Dean grinned, took in Sam stepping around the other side of the Impala, and looked back to Jo's huge, brown eyes. He winked at her, and she slowly pulled her hand away, before swiftly turning around. "Hi...Mum..." She said, clearing her throat, rocking slightly, and blushing deeply. "Ellen!" Dean stepped around from Jo, jumped down the steps and hugged Ellen, breathing in the sense of family once more. Ellen rolled her eyes at Sam, dropped her gun, and hugged Dean back, "Boy is it good to see you Dean." She murmured in his ear, voice thick. She then cleared her throat, cuffed him round the ear and stepped back. "But never let me see you and my daughter like that again, ok?" Dean rubbed his ear.

'Like mother like daughter,' he thought to himself. He smiled at Sam.

Sam walked around the car, jaw set angrily. "Dean, what the hell?" Dean stepped back a little. Ellen picked up her gun again. Jo walked down the steps of the porch and stood within a steps distance of both Dean and her Mother. "Three fucking weeks." Sam said with a steady voice. "And you didn't have the courtesy to tell me you were still Alive." Dean took a deep breath, and this time walked closer to Sam. "Sammy, I'm so sorry. I'm...I am, actually sorry. I have no excuses. I just had to leave. You and Bobby dealt with it so much better, and I was just hurting, more and more. It got worse and worse. So." Dean hesitated,and looked at the group. Ellen looked unimpressed, Sam expression was still angry, but Jo's eyes had filled with tears. She had no idea he cared that much. Dean gulped and continued. "So, I left, working jobs for a fortnight, doing different family business. Without phones. Or the impala. Or cas, or you." Dean looked at the ground now, scuffing the sand and the gravel with his feet. "And in that last week I built up the courage to come here, to say good bye to you guys." He looked at the Harvelles, eyes piercing. "Which I had to do by myself." Sam shifted, and his jaw unclenched a little. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to say something and just nodded. The four of them stood there, uncomfortably waiting.

Ellen broke the silence. "What about a drink? For old times sake, eh?" Ellen clapped Dean on the back, gripped Sam's arm and pulled him up the stairs. Dean motioned for Jo to go first. "Always the gentleman." She smirked, and stepped up the same time. He took her soft, slender hand in his, and they followed Ellen and Jo into the substitute roadhouse, fingers entwined. Before crossing the threshold, Dean leant in for a final kiss, his lips firm but tender, her tongue tracing his. They pulled back, smiled at each other, and walked in, still holding hands, looking forwards to the future of the past they would almost recreate.


	3. Morning After

**Hi! Um this chapter is bordering smut, I'll bring some real stuff in soon, but in the meantime, please read, and I'd really appreciate any feedback! Okay, it's the morning after Chapter 2.**

Dean shifted slightly, adjusting his weight. In Ellen's second bedroom he was very comfortable, especially as he had Jo nestled into the crook of his arm, her head leant gently on his shoulder. She snuggled into his neck when he moved, and slung her arms around his body. She groaned very quietly, realising that she had awoken, and then sat up. Her slender, shining body was dressed only in her underwear, black and lacy. Dean lay where he was, admiring her body and thanking - well, not god, but some higher power - that she had let him so close to that body, as close as a man can possibly get to a woman. He smiled, and grabbed her shoulder. He pulled her back and kissed her softly, lips locking. She broke away first, brushing her hands down his toned, naked chest. "Good Morning Idjit." She smirked. Deans lid a hand through her hair. "Sleep well, beautiful?" He asked, tenderly. She gave him a full, real smile and whispered. "I did. But hey, I had more fun before I fell asleep." Dean inhaled slowly for a long time, his eyes darkening slightly. He glanced down and thought of Crowley butt naked until his excitement passed.

"Yeah." He said. "I had a hell of a good night too."

A few minutes later they were both dressed. The two walked down the creaking stairs, talking about the different cases they had worked before. Jo mentioned the vengeful spirit of the psychopath, and how Dean had saved her just in time. He shifted and said quietly that it was his fault she'd been taken in the first time, but Jo punched his arm and said that he'd saved her a fair few times, but she'd also kicked his butt and saved him plenty of times. Dean caught her in a headlock. "I could take you anyt-" before he knew it, he was on the floor. "Hey Jo, remember the first time we met? You beat me up good and proper. Lets not have a repeat, yeah?" Jo laughed freely, helped him up and pecked him on the cheek.

"Didn't I make up for all that last night?" She joked. Someone cleared their throat behind her as she leaned up in in to Deans face. "Again? You've got to be shitting me." She said, annoyed, loud and clear. Sam spun her around. He grinned at her, hugged her and then high fived Dean. "Nice night guys?" He asked innocently. "Oh...wait." He added watching them blush and avoid making eye contact. "I was in the room next to you and could hear everything." Dean looked at Sam, clearly not giving a shit but Jo's eyes widened. She grabbed Sam by the neck if his shirt and shoved him against the wall. For a moment, Dean worried that Jo was going to snog his brother the same way she had with him, but then, in a menacing voice she said, "If my mother was to find out, I would frigging kill you, understand?" Sam gripped her wrists, lifted her and placed her next to Dean again, ruffling her hair. "Besides little sister, I reckon she knows anyway. In a foul mood she is. Quite terrifying. And constantly muttering about something called 'lack of subtlety.'" Jo paled.

"Shit." She whispered. Sam and Dean nodded and laughed. Dean slung her around his back, piggy back style and said to her, "don't worry Jo, your knight in shining armour will protect you from the dragon within." She giggled, held on tight and talked with ease at the two gorgeous Winchester brothers, as they made their way to the kitchen.

Ellen was busily rattling pots and pans in the kitchen, making breakfast. Dean smelled eggs and bacon. And plonked himself down on a work bench. "Morning Ellen." He said, as cheerily as he could. Ellen shot a look of disgust at the older Winchester. "If you want breakfast Dean, shut the hell up. And keep off of Jo." Dean looked at Sam and shrugged, before deciding to do what Ellen said for now - at least until she left the room. Jo busied herself getting out plates and laying the table. She looked stunning. Dean watched her, amazed at how she could look so good without even trying. She wore a blue and green plaid shirt of his, and simple black leggings. Her hair was scraped off her face into a high ponytail, her browny blond locks still gorgeous. She wore no shoes, so Dean took the time to admire even her ankles - he knew which legs they led to. For a long time, Dean just watched Jo moving around the kitchen, enjoying what he saw, still shocked that she had accepted him and his love.

He continued to admire her and her body until he heard a throat clearing behind him. He looked up quickly to find Ellen giving him a very stern look. "Back off Dean." She said, a finality to her tone. Jo threw a dish towel to the floor, and turned to face her mum.

"Enough, Mum. I'm a big girl, I can handle a bit of flirting from a Winchester without your help." She drew herself up to a full height, and glared at her Mother. Sam and Dean made eye contact, and coughed awkwardly. Ellen, walked closer towards Jo, who stood her ground, and tipped her chin to an arrogant tilt.

"Flirting, yes, Jo I'm sure you can withhold a little flirting and stand tall still. But Dean bloody Winchester and his eyes, sweet talk, and yes, his body?" Ellen talked without a trace of embarrassment, where as Jo blushed a little. Dean sat upright and nudged Sam, muttering something inappropriate about how he was 'Suitable for all ages.' Sam punched him and told him to shut up. Ellen heard him well enough but point blank ignored him. "Joanna Beth, you can't just shag any pretty guy in the house. Do you have ANY decency? Or respect? This behaviour is slutty. And I will not have a slutty daughter Jo, I won't."

Jo sucked in a long winded breath. Then she simply whipped her hand and smacked her mothers face. Sam, Dean and Ellen all gasped and stared at Jo, shocked into silence. Jo's voice remained cold and calm. "I will be with whoever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want. It's none of your business Mum. And, furthermore, if I want to sleep with Dean Winchester, of all people, then I bloody well can. I have waited for so long to be with this man, and now I finally have a chance and you try screw it up because we had sex? And you heard? Big deal. You're meant to be a freaking grown up." Ellen stood, eyeing Jo for a very long time, before picking up the dish towel, throwing it to Sam and walking out.

"You can make your own breakfast boys." She yelled as she left.

An awkward silence filled the room. Dean turned on the radio, and waited only to hear 'The Bitch Song.' He quickly turned it off. Sam stood up, and put some bacon in the fryer. Jo turned around jaw still set. Dean walked over, took her face and very softly kissed her. "Well Done Joanna Beth." He whispered. She smiled a little, and he rejoiced in the fact that he had made her day a little better, and drawn the smile out of her angered face.


	4. Vamp Champ

"Dean?" Sam said, watching his older brother drive the impala, with a clenched jaw. Dean didn't reply, but looked at Sam for a moment before pressing his foot down harder on the accelerator. Sam watched the speed dial rise, and listened to the Impala starting to whine. "Dean you are going to kill your car. Slow down!" Sam instructed. Dean seemed to jerk out of a daze, and looked at the dials. The Impala was really complaining. Dean stamped his foot on the brake. "Damn Baby, I'm sorry! Are you ok?" He jumped out, and checked the engine. It was fine. Sam sat in the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. Dean was overreacting. About his car. It was ridiculous. Dean stroked his chin and sat on the hood, fiddling with his fingers. His feet tapped against the floor. He kept on twitching, never staying still. He breathed in a shaky breath, attempting to reassure himself. He knew it was useless.

Sam stepped out of the 1967 Chevy and stood next to Dean, leaning against the polished black hood of the car. "So. You want to talk about why you are so nervous going after a regular vamp Dean?" His face was that beautiful, confused brooding expression, that Dean had grown so accustomed to after the years. Dean sighed. "I don't - I'm not nervous. Sam, I'm fine! Yeah? So let's go kill that bloodsucking son of a bitch and leave, huh?" Sam nodded, held back a smile and said quietly, "You and Jo, yeah? How's that?" Dean blushed a little bit, punched Sam's arm and told him to shut up. He climbed back into the car, and revved the engine. He started driving and Sam turned on the radio. They drove the rest of the way in dead silence.

Dean bust open the door of the old, empty flat block. It was a dark, abandoned building, floorboards creaking everywhere the brothers stepped. Sam followed him inside, swiping a cobweb out of his face. They stood, a long sword of sorts, a syringe filled with dead mans blood and a silver knife at the ready. Sam manned the torchlight, and pointed out a smear of blood that traced up the walls, and around the door. They carefully edged around the corner, ready and waiting. Sam inhaled sharply as he stepped on something - a trail of intestines or something, just littering the floor of the corridor. "Ew! Gross!" He whispered. There was a moment of silence before-  
"Gotcha!" A voice snarled as a hand curled around Deans shoulder, coming out from an unseen corridor . A fist flew towards his face, and he blacked out. "Dean!" Sam yelled, before clapping a hand to his mouth and retreating back the way he had come. He didn't want to be taken as well, no, he wanted to track Dean and his Captor down.

After a few minutes, Sam walked to where Dean had been grabbed. He discovered a very small 'cubby hole', in which was a small trapdoor, leading down into darkness. Sam took in a deep breath, and dropped inside, hitting the concrete floor below. He was surprised - it hadn't been a very far way to fall, and nothing had grabbed at him when he landed. This vampire wasn't very defensive - or clever at that.

Dean meanwhile, came to, hanging in cuffs from the low, dank ceiling. He sighed. Great. Another cellar. Another difficult place to be found in. And, if he got out - which he was sure he could - another wrenching pain in his shoulders for a good week. His main thought was getting back to Sam, and then he thought about Jo. It scared him a lot, how much he thought about her. He had known she was alive for little over twenty four hours, but still every few moments, there in his mind, Miss Harvelle would pop up. He was distracted by her. It wasn't safe. He would think about what all the meant later, but in the meantime he was determined to get as much information in his head as possible. He took in the cheap chains that he was strung up by. He noted that his leather jacket was gone, he was wearing his green tshirt which was already drenched. His feet were hanging off the ground by only a couple of inches - this would be so much easier if he could touch the floor. Dean looked around the room. He was in a very small, circular room, that had an iron door which was bolted from the inside...the inside? Okay, so this vampire needs a retreat. Dean continued looking around twisting his body to see the full parameter. He was strung up slap bang in the middle of the room, which looked strangely like Bobby's panic room. Above his head, to his shock, was a demons trap, pink spray paint having done the job. Dean was really confused now - what kind of a vampire was this, anyway?

He could hear something on the other side of the door, attempting to jam it open. "Sam?" He whispered, hoarsely. Sam replied, he was trying to open the door but the iron and the bolts were making it impossible to bust in.  
"Dean?" Sam asked. "Can you see anything in there that can get you down?" Dean looked up to see the chains were hung up merely by an old iron hook. He sighed heavily, but then flexed his feet and began to swing, higher and higher, making the flimsy chains rattle. He grimaced as pain shot through his fatigued shoulders and arms, but continued to bend his body, twisting over himself so the chains would keep moving.

Sam was busy searching around the door for clues, a key or a trace of the vamp. He edged around the room, which seemingly was a circle the took up most of a circular corridor. Sam walked around the outskirts of the room, where he found three dead bodies - old, lifeless and drained of all blood, as well as one new, fresh, still dripping wet in spilt blood. He heard footsteps coming his way and knew he had to make a decision quick. He whipped his head over his shoulder, and dropped to the floor, coating himself in the blood of the guy next to him. He then rolled over and stared emptily at the wall, keeping dead still while listening to the footfall coming closer and closer to him. A foot trampled over his hand, a hard boot digging into his fingers, crushing them painfully. He shut his eyes, somehow managed to keep silent and then watched a very tall, Indian man walk away from him. He swiftly and silently stood, and drew the syringe out of his back pocket. As he lunged towards the man, he noticed the guy stiffen as he realised something was wrong. Before the vamp could say or do anything, he was on the floor, dead mans blood having been shot into his neck. He blacked out pretty quick.

Dean had somehow gripped his own chains in hand and was climbing up them, feet gripping the chain that had now looped below him. He wriggled up, up and up until he could hang upside down with his feet crouched onto the ceiling, pushing his body weight upwards with his hand grasping the chains. With a sharp flick of his wrists, he jerked the chain of the hook, and came crashing to the ground. He lay, twisted and aching for a minute, letting his muscles slowly relax. He then slowly drew himself up, hands still bound by chains, and yelled out to Sam, undoing the bolts and yanking the door open. Sam immediately walked in, stooping to get in through the low door frame, with a tall Asian man slung over his shoulder. They bolted the doors and sat the semi conscious monster down. Dean checked his face and yes - two fangs slid out in response to the contact. Dean looked up to find Sam watching him. "What?" He said, almost defensively. Sam laughed, showing his white teeth and childlike grin, "Nothing dean, I'm just glad you're okay. I was a little bit worried for a while."  
"Worried?" Dean chuckled slightly, and clapped Sam on the back. "Don't worry Sammy, I can handle a bit of vampire." Sam shook his head, slowly.  
"No. Dean, I meant the last weeks, I'm just so glad that your okay. And also - never do that to me again." In Sam's eyes a tiny, almost unnoticeable tremor of pain, and hurt flashed, which Dean noticed, and recoiled slightly. He hadn't meant to hurt Sammy at all. He loved Sam, and would - and had - die for him. His baby brother had been so upset at the loss Dean threatened by disappearing, and he hadn't even stopped to think about it. Dean felt ashamed, as if he could hear John Winchester telling him off for hurting Sam again.  
Dean swallowed thickly, just taking a moment to avoid any chick flick moments.  
"Sorry Sam. I won't." He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the feebly stirring bloodsucker. "Now lets get this bitch talking."

Hi so, a few of you have read it which I'm really glad about! I have my holidays now so I'll update a lot more often, please leave reviews I'd really like some feedback, but thanks and I'm enjoying writing these guys, so I hope you're enjoying reading!


	5. Not Very Immortal

Sam pressed the silver blade closer against the vampires neck. "Hey." He whispered. "You going to tell us about the devils trap or am I going to have to ask you properly?" The monster glared balefully at him for a moment, shaking at the chains Dean had clamped onto his wrists, having taken his own cuffs off.  
"It's to ward off Demons, obviously." Dean walked towards him with the syringe - filled with more of the victims in the corridors blood - and eyed him with disgust. The vampire decided to talk faster. "A demon tried to force me and my nest into a deal. The others all accepted and left. I, however..." He tailed off suggestively, and looked around his 'safe house.' Dean and Sam looked at each other, confused again. Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, and nodded towards the vampire, suggesting that Dean continued. Dean walked towards a stand in the middle of the room which held a rack filled with torture instruments. Dean recognised these from that time he'd had to torture Alistair, and flinched instantly, trying and forcing himself not to flashback. He still had nightmares about hell, and he wasn't prepared to face anything like it again. Dean clenched his jaw, frustrated and confused.

"Alright bloodsucker, explain to me please, what the hell is this whole bunker for eh? The demon traps, the chains, the bolts? All of it. Now." He said, twirling what looked like a heavily barbed silver nail file on a screwdriver handle between his fingers. He advanced slowly towards the vampire, eyeing the tool and then looking at him threateningly. The vampire shook his head slowly, so Dean very precisely and carefully dragged the instrument across his fingers, digging hard, ripping them up piece by piece. The man groaned as his flesh was torn. He tried to resist for a moment, when Sam snatched the file from Dean and held it, threatening to do damage to his unscathed skin.  
"Tell him." Sam murmured quietly. "Now."  
The creature gave the youngest Winchester a resentful glare, but when he felt the first barb press into his skin he began to talk - fast.  
"My name is Vicram, I am two hundred and twenty three years old. I was created into a nest of maybe eight other vampires - every century or so they'd add a new family member. About six months ago, a demon named Carmel came and talked to us. She was..." He sighed, looking into the distance. "She was beautiful. Beautiful, but also evil. Crueler than anything I've ever met. She was in fact, almost unbeatable. She killed my father, the oldest vampire in a three hundred mile radius, and one of the most feared vampires throughout the world. Yet despite all of that, she fought him, and within thirty seconds, he was gone. We all tried to fight her, but she hit us down on the floor. Said she was leading an army-"  
"An army?" Dean interrupted. Vicram scowled at Dean for a long time, rebuking him almost. Sam dug the file a little harder into his face and told him to continue.

"She said she was leading an army for both monsters and demons alike. And that we must all join her. If we didn't, then she said we would be killed. Most wanted to join anyway- she promised we would all have a better life, more fun and much, much more food." Vicrams eyes darted around the room, remembering and recalling what had happened. "We argued this point for three months, and finally, all seven decided we'd go. I agreed, and started on this journey before realising-" Here he looked at the brothers, slightly apprehensively and at the same time contemptuously, before swallowing and adding - "that I could continue to feed, and keep more for myself if I stayed at the old headquarters and kept on..."  
"Murdering innocent people?" Sam suggested. "Draining them of their blood till they run dry?" Vicram looked Sam in the eye, a tiny twinkle of amusement lightening up his face.  
"Something like that, yes. Anyways, I went home, set up traps so Carmel couldn't find me, and carried on, really." Sam flicked a small angle with the file, causing bead of blood to bubble out of the tiny slit in Vicram's face.  
"Is that all you have to tell us?" He said, as Dean walked behind him, wielding the sword.  
Vicram nodded. "I have kept nothing from you...mortals." He said, even now looking down on Sam.  
"Yeah you're not really that immortal yourself mate." Dean said, swinging the sword, silencing Vicram.

Sam passed Dean a damp cloth to wipe away the blood on his neck and jaw. Dean did that slowly, one hand on the wheel. The quiet road was empty of traffic, the only light being that of their headlamps. Dean sped up a little. Sam grinned to himself, biting back teasing to fling at Dean. Dean glanced at Sam, and threw the bloody cloth at him. "Shut up, Sam." He said, irritated but also a little amused. "It's just...great to be able to drive fast...you know?" He muttered. Sam burst out laughing, in that high pitched cackling Dean loved to hear.  
"Hey dude it's like watching... A really really crap adventure/romance movie. And the main guy is a lovesick idiot." Sam said, smirking as Dean searched for a decent reply.  
"At least I'm not the awkward third wheel." He finally said. "Desperate to get laid but never will." Sam shut up, and looked at the road ahead. He said softly that perhaps this time they had reached a touché.

As the old but still shining car began the last mile of the journey back to the roadhouse ruin, Deans jaw started to twitch. His speed increased at a somewhat alarming rate, taking sharp corners too fast and blatantly ignoring other drivers. "DEAN!" Sam yelled furiously.  
"What did I tell you earlier? You'll get us killed!" Deans jaw tensed and he kept on driving, taking no heed of Sam's warning. When Sam demanded to know why he was in such a hurry, Dean said in a stressed and pained tone, "The roadhouse Sam. It's been a target before and the new one could just- Jo can't get hurt. Neither can Ellen." Sam just gritted his teeth and prayed that the angels could stop a crash if they needed to.

Suddenly, just before the last bend around to the roadhouse, Dean brought the car to a screeching stop. He leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. A whirlwind of emotions, thoughts and fears were shooting through his brain and he didn't know how to stop it.  
"Sam." He hesitated, stumbling over his words, shooting the odd glance at his brother but never making eye contact. Most of the time, his eyes stayed on the road ahead. "What - how is this - I've got so tense in the last few hours and its all because - every few seconds she's in my head again and- what should I- how can I- have you ever?" He drifted off the end of his messy sentence, watching Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam smiled a little, but this time in a less teasing manner. He watched Dean for a moment.  
"Dean, it's not a big deal. I mean, sure, the secret love and tragedy of your life is back, that's great. I'm glad they're back, so glad I feel I could burst. For myself, not you. But, the way you're feeling. Like she's there all the time, inside your head, you worry and wonder constantly about her? I've only had that once. And it made no difference. And here I sit with you." He stopped, and watched Dean process what he'd said. Dean looked at Sam properly. Pity, sorrow and - guilt? - flickered in his eyes.  
"Jess." Dean whispered. They were silent for a minute, before Dean said angrily. "We'll that's no use to me Sam! That's only another dead person I'm responsible for. It doesn't help me with Jo! What do I -" he sighed, and leaned his head against the wheel. Slowly, hesitantly, Sam reached his hand and and squeezed Deans forearm, comforting, steady, and after a moment, Dean sat up straight, turned on the ignition, gave Sam a weary smile, and began to drive around the corner. As they pulled into the roadhouse car park, Dean stared at the burnt remains of the original roadhouse. They had christened the large house next door the second roadhouse - Ellen was already in the process of installing beer pumps and bars - but they were all reminded of what had happened before constantly, by the black ruins of the place. The brothers climbed out of the car, and slowly walked up the steps, Sam wiping away crusted blood on his arm, Dean checking his wrists where he'd been hung by cuffs. Sam noticed a curtain upstairs in the room to the left of his bedroom twitch. He smiled half heartedly. Didn't seem like Dean would have to worry about his feelings not being reciprocated. They walked into the bar to find Ellen, smiling behind a pub bar, stacking cola cans.  
"Hello boys!" She said. Dean looked at Sam - wasn't she still really angry at them? "Don't worry kids I'm gonna whip your asses later, but for now. Beer?" She asked, grinning.  
Dean laughed shakily and took a seat at the new bar stools.  
"I don't tell you often enough Ellen. But you are a beautiful woman." He said, grinning.

"Oh I don't know." A soft voice behind him said. "I thought her daughter was your girl." Dean, smiling spun around on the chair just as Jo reached him. He stood, and pulled her face in for a crushing kiss, passionate and full of unspoken words. They broke apart, breathing heavily. Dean stroked softly down the side of her face. She smiled, eyes latching onto his.  
"Ellen is a beautiful woman," Dean repeated. "Which is why I find it easy to conceive how she has such a stunning, charming, smart and gorgeous daughter." Both of the Harvelle's laughed. Jo punched Dean lightly, and hopped up onto a stool next to him. Sam sat watching Dean and Jo talking, and was instantly aware of a difference in Dean. Normally, Dean would chat the ladies up, who would watch him with awe and lust. Dean would have the power and control, and the talk would mainly be- well. Leading up to sex. But today, Sam watched Dean ask her questions, answer hers, watch her with care and awe, and not once mention sex. Sam smirked for a moment, reminding himself that the two barely needed to talk about sex after last night. He turned, and talked with Ellen for a while, informing her of everything the vampire said. She frowned, and they continued to speculate and wonder, whilst Dean caught ahold of Jo's hand and smiled when she didn't move it.  
"I'm glad you're okay." He said quietly, interrupting her amusing rant about her mother.  
"What?" She jerked upright. "Dean, I was here all day, worrying about you." He looked down, knowing that he was about to say what he was trying hard not to say.  
"I know but, all throughout today. Chasing vamps and all that shit. All I could think was 'I hope she's okay, I should get back. If she's gone again I can't-' and then just thinking about last night, and this morning and every time you've let me get close to you, and it's driving me nuts because no one is in my head that much." He muttered, not looking at her. Jo gripped his jaw and brought his face up to look at hers.  
"Dean, that was cute." She said, in a happy but sharpish tone, teasing. "And very attractive for me, but you don't worry about that. The past three hours I've been waiting to hear your stupid car. And when I did, u was scared to come down in case you were broken, or had another girl on your arm. It's normal. It's called falling in-" she brought herself quickly to a stop. She wouldn't be the first to say it, not now, not ever. "Falling into deep crap, but not caring because the person you care about is falling with you." Dean looked at her, and the only thing he replied to was the other girl.  
"The only girl I would be content to have on my arm, in my company, with me, is you, Joanna Beth Harvelle. So don't you worry." She grinned, leaned in to kiss him and then hopped over the bar.  
"Refills!" She called out to the group.


	6. Flashback Trauma

**Hi again! Sorry it took me so long to update, I've been away, but I'm back now and plan to update every other day for now. So this chapter... It was headed for smut. I'm not going to lie. But there was trauma and angst and character development that needed to be discussed...sorry! Don't worry, Dean gets laid next chapter. Thanks guys, please review and let me know how I'm doing. :)**

Dean was getting tired of sitting in the roadhouse bar. He wanted to be somewhere else. He turned, and called out to Ellen and Sam. "I'm going to bed. Good night." They waved him off. He leaned in and whispered very quietly to Jo. "Perhaps, you might join me?" She looked at him, externally very cool, collected. In control. She didn't look like she needed him, she looked like she was entertaining the idea of him, curling a strand of hair between her slender fingers and smiling a crooked smile whilst letting her eyes slide from his, all the way down - lingering on his crotch concealed by his jeans - and back up again. A small shiver raced down Dean's spine, reminding him of nerves and feelings he had forgotten existed inside of his hard, sculpted body.

"Maybe I'll follow you up." She said steadily, cocking an eyebrow. Dean pressed his lips to hers firmly, before gently biting down on her lower lip. He then murmured into her mouth as his hands slid around her tiny waist and up her back.

"I'll expect you shortly, Miss Harvelle." He pulled back, caught ahold of her fingers and as he walked away let his hand slowly lose contact from hers. He walked out of the bar, took a left into the corridor, and began to walk up the stairs.

As Dean walked up the stairs, he played through the previous conversations he'd had in his head. "She's there all the time, in your head - falling into deep crap - follow you - for now, beer? - very attractive-" All kinds of ideas filled his head, and he lingered over where Jo had talked about crap. For an absolute nanosecond, he had been sure that she was going to say 'falling in love.' He had wanted her to, had felt a shift in his head and body as she'd almost said it. He had tensed, and waited for her to say what he had been holding back since she first woke him up on the porch. Then, she had talked about crap. Dean had been grateful for her sentiment, but after that he had ever so slightly deflated. He wanted to tell her so badly, but he wouldn't scare her like that. He'd already lost her once. He refused to do so again. As Dean sat down on the double bed in the spacious but sparsely decorated spare bedroom, he swore to himself that he would never leave her again. He couldn't stand that pain a second time. His thoughts stayed with Jo, as he swung himself to sit on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. He thought of how awesome she looked wearing his clothing, before grinning to himself as he thought of how she looked wearing no clothing. He remembered what she had said. She was going to follow him up. If he was lucky. Dean jumped off the bed and began to tidy what he could. He opened a chest of drawers to discover little tea lights, which he lit and dotted around the surfaces in the room. He then took off his leather jacket, leaving his green cotton T-shirt, got back on the bed and leaned his head back, eyes shut as his fingers tapped out a Metallica beat.

Downstairs, Jo sat, still watching where Dean had left the room, her back to her mother and Sam. Outwardly, she had kept cool and calm. Inwardly, thousands of thoughts shot through her mind. How could she have almost slipped, almost shown the impossible to win ladies man, Dean Winchester, how deep her feelings for him went? How could she still be sitting here, not getting laid right now? Oh yeah, because her insides were churning still, simply at the sight of Dean, let alone how he had kissed her. Or the still vibrant memories of last night. Her muscles involuntarily tightened as she remembered how many little ecstatic deaths she had died, as Dean bloody Winchester had worked his magic.

She leaned forwards, and put her elbows on the bar, her jaw resting against her hands. She stared into space thinking about Dean. About what he'd said to her. About how he looked at her. About how he looked, acted and spoke. She thought about how scared she'd been. How insanely worried when he'd gone on a normal hunt. Mentally, she shook herself. "A mere boy can't change me like this." She thought. She sighed. "The issue is," she thought, "Dean isn't a mere boy." She shook her head, exasperated at herself and her infatuation.

"Joanna? Are you okay?" Ellen said. Jo smiled at her, and nodded. She stood up, and walked over to Sam and her Mum. She held out her hand to Sam who started to shake it, looking confused. She pulled him in quick, and slapped him on the back. Sam laughed, and congratulated her on being able to do the guy hug. Ellen looked at Jo, fondly, in a manner not quite usual. She hugged her daughter, squeezing her tight. Jo breathed in against her hair.

"Night Mum." She whispered in a slightly choked voice, right into Ellen's ear. Ellen took in a very deep breath, and forced herself not to well up.

"Night baby. I love you." Jo smiled, teary eyed, nodded to Sam and made a dash for the stairs, smiling still as she tried to hold back the tears. She headed straight for Deans guest room, before realising she couldn't go through with anything yet. This sudden change of mood that had come from hugging her Mum wasn't going anywhere. She groaned at herself as more tears spilled over her eyelashes. She knocked on Deans door and took a steadying breath.

"Dean..." She said quietly. "I'll be with you in a while, okay?" Before he had a chance to reply, she was gone, down the corridor and into her room.

Jo and Ellen had been in this house since their mystery resurrection, three weeks ago. The walls of Jo's room were still a boring cream, but on one cork board on the wall was a load of maps, diagrams, tacks and notes. Her search for the Winchester boys and whether they survived was in evidence only in her room. Her double bed was spread with lilac sheets and a quilt. The book stand had a strange assortment of literature - classics, children's stories, adventure, crime and finally, photograph albums. In a tall oak closet, hung her few clothes, whilst most of her possessions sat on her boudoir, mostly untouched makeup, her guns, her dads knife, an old cuddly toy tiger and one bottle of her mums perfume. She'd nicked it because the smell was strangely soothing, as if her mum was by her side constantly. Her iPod was tangled under her pillow, ready for her to sleep listening to. The room was bland, empty perhaps, but she was already making it hers. As she collapsed onto her bed, sobbing very quietly, she gripped the little knife in her hand. She thought of Ellen, and Ellen only. "Night baby. I love you." Rang in her ears, but it slowly morphed, and she heard "I will always love you baby." The last words she'd heard. She tried to hold back the tears, angry at herself. Of course, it would be now that the full trauma of her and her Mum's death hit her. Of course, when she is prepping herself for another awesome night with Dean, she has to hug her Mum and be reminded of it all. Naturally. She heard the hellhounds growl as she tried to shoot at it. She felt its claws take up her stomach. She cried out, and lost herself in the memory. And in crying.

"Jo!" She heard Dean call as he dived to pick her up, whilst she lay broken and torn in the street. "Jo." She heard him say sternly as she suggested the bomb. "Jo." She heard her Mum say as she sat down next to her, ready to die with her.

"Jo."

Dean said as he swung her door open. She sat up on her bed, tears streaming and looked at him. Great.

Dean stared wordlessly at her for a second, taking in her flushed face, trembling lips and streaming eyes. He looked around the room, very quickly, for a threat. He then ran to her bed, clutching at her shoulders. Confusion turned speedily into panic. He shook her. "Jo! Who hurt you? What is it? Did I-? What's wrong with y- are you okay?" He said, barely keeping from yelling. He checked over her body for blood, broken bones, anything that could've hurt her for her to cry this hard. He grabbed her face and looked at her, dead on.

"I can't - she t-tried t-to - I didn't- we d-dd.." She trailed off, shaking her head helplessly and dissolving into tears. He climbed up next to her and wrapped his arms around her, worry etched all over his face. Sex he knew he could do well. Feeling and stuff? That was going to be more of a challenge. Jo snuggled into his body, crying onto his tshirt. Unfortunately, he didn't realise that she had died exactly this way, only Ellen had been in his place, which she had recognised. She enjoyed feeling him care and protect her, but at the same time the flood of tears coming from her only got heavier. He continued to hold her, to soothe her, to stroke her hair and grip her tighter. Dean was scared out of his mind. He had no idea what was wrong.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Ellen watched her daughter walk away, forcing away a lump that rose in her mouth. She dashed to the bar and quickly downed a half glass of whiskey. she tried to clear the thin mist of tears that were forming.

"Hey. Ellen. Are you okay?" Sam asked, sitting at the bar next to her gripping her hand that lay on the bar. She started to nod and then shook her head.

"What is it? Can I help at all?" He asked, eyebrows turned up in a concerned expression. Ellen took a very deep, shaky breath, and poured whiskey for the two of them. "It's to do with Jo isn't it?" Sam asked, taking a sip of the golden liquid.

"Sam. When you two left...she d- was gone before I - before I blew us up. I had to live with her dying anyway and it hurt me to see her hurting so badly before..." She looked up at him, and saw his big brown eyes melting in sympathy. "And now it's-"

"Your every nightmare. Your every worst scenario, and you've already had to live it." Sam said, his voice cracking, as he remembered their deaths. And Deans multiple disappearances.

"Exactly." Ellen said. "And every time I look at her I see what I have lost before. And how I can't possibly stand to lose her again." Sam pulled Ellen around, and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back, and for a long time, they sat there, holding on to each other, remembering the past trauma they'd been through. Sam kissed Ellen on the cheek - in a totally brotherly way - and then said to her that, "Besides, you really think that Dean - or myself - are going to let Jo get hurt again? We had to live through the first time Ellen. It will not happen again." Ellen merely nodded, blinked the tears away and smiled.

"More Whiskey." They said simultaneously.

When Jo eventually stopped crying, Dean's T-shirt was soaking. He had never let her go though, not once. He had stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, murmured that he was there, and just let her cry her heart out. He had pulled her in closer, and held her tighter, until the sobs led to dry hiccups, which led to shaky gasps, which led to a long silence. Dean rubbed up and down her arm, waiting until Jo was ready to talk.

"Dean." She said in a very quiet voice. "What are you thinking?" She looked up at his face, as he watched the wall, still stroking her arm.

"I'm thinking...that I want to know what has hurt you. And I want to kill whoever has done it. And I'm also very very terrified that I might've...done this to you. And I want you to be okay." He said, gruffly, turning to watch her face. She leaned up and gently kissed him, so quick and so light they barely touched.

"It's not you. It's...everything. Mum, Me, d-dying..." She faltered, and looked down into her lap. Dean grabbed her, and rolled her up, onto his chest, so that they were a simple face to face. He cupped the sides of her face, and ran his fingers throughout her hair.

"It's just crashed down on you huh?" He said. She nodded and blinked quickly for a while. "Joanna Beth Harvelle. That was the worst day of my life. And I am jerked awake by nightmares of you and your Mum...that day... Frequently. But. I will never let that happen to you again. I will...I will..." He glanced down at her, and breathed out. "I will sell my soul for you Joanna Beth. Anything. Anything. To protect yours." Jo was wide eyed for a moment. Then she gripped his face and kissed him, hard. She then relaxed against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest.

"Dean." She hesitated. "Dean I think that I...I think that I..." He poked her gently.

"You think you what Jo?" He asked, trying not to get his hopes up. "Jo?" He asked again. She sniffled and twisted closer onto him. Her mouth opened. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Dean sighed.

He was expecting to get laid tonight, but in a way, he thought, this was better. Falling asleep with the girl that he... The girl that he loved. He admitted it to himself. Falling asleep having comforted and protected this amazing woman, and feeling her body heat melt into his, as his heart melted for hers.

"Dammit Dean." He cursed. "You're turning into such a drama queen. And a girl."

It wasn't long until he too, was asleep, dreaming only of Jo.


	7. Always The Gentleman

**It's the smut chapter...finally! Okay, my first proper smut, so give me any feedback what's so ever, the from here out, even mix of smut, fluff and actual storyline! Please enjoy, and do review.**

"Dean." Jo said, still half lying on top of him. He slowly pulled himself out of a kind of musty slumber, half awake and half deep sleep. Jo tripped her fingers up his chest, up his neck to his face, where she traced her fingers lightly down his nose, to rest on his lips. He opened his eyes slowly, and smiled at her. Her face was pale, as if the colour had been emptied of it from last night. The pale colour of her skin only made her big, soft brown eyes stand out more, and her lusciously pink lips only more rosy. Dean thought that he could wake up to this sight every day, and it would never get less beautiful. They had both fallen asleep wearing their day clothes, Dean in his jeans and tshirt, Jo in those leggings and Dean's plaid shirt. Jo leaned in to kiss Dean, her hands slipping just under the short sleeves of his top, massaging slightly at his shoulders. Dean twisted his hands into her hair, pulling her face in closer to his, pushing his lips harder against hers. His tongue edged around her lips, until they parted, allowing him entrance. His tongue slowly traced around hers, until she started to battle with him for dominance, tongue shoving against tongue. Jo grinned against him.

"What?" Dean breathed into her mouth. "What is it?" He bit down slightly on her lower lip, and tugged gently, she brought one hand up into his hair, tugging a little in response. She didn't answer for a moment, being so engrossed in the kiss, but as his lips moved down to her neck, fingers undoing the top button on her shirt, she moaned quietly, and whispered against him.

"Can't believe...I spent...this much time knowing you...and we never thought...to do this." She was panting slightly, as his lips slid down to her collarbone, nibbling and sweeping over her creamy, smooth skin. Dean pulled himself up, shifting her slightly, and he looked straight into her eyes. She got slightly lost in his sparkling green eyes, whose pupils had got larger as he got more and more lustful for her, for her body, for her love. He pulled her face closer to his, so that their noses were almost touching.

"Trust me, Joanna Beth. I had thought of doing this plenty of times." Jo smiled a little.

"Then why did you never-" One of Dean's fingers was placed over her lips, stopping her from continuing. She winked a tiny bit, and licked slightly at his finger, swirling and lapping at his skin. He fought to keep a straight face, before answering.

"Because, I thought you were too special, too good, and too damn whole. Nothing I could ever deserve, or have." His voice was gruff, and beautifully deep, emphasising the truth behind his words. Jo flushed a little, her eyes widened and she gaped at him for a second. Then, she grabbed his jaw, and pulled forwards and kiss him, roughly for a few seconds.

"Shut the fuck up Dean Winchester." She whispered into his mouth. "And get going."

Dean flipped her over onto her back, switching their positions so he was on top. Jo rolled her eyes - it made sense that Dean would need to feel in command of the situation after opening up like that. He knelt over her, pulling his shirt off, over his head, before leaning down and continuing to unbutton Jo's shirt. Jo decided that she didn't mind Dean being on top for now, as his rough, textured fingers swirled patterns over her chest, down her stomach, towards her hipbone, where one of his hands rested. The other outlined her jaw, and collarbone whilst her fingers tripped lazily over his abs, towards his jeans. She started to undo them, and slid then to his knees, as he massaged the slight hollow on the edge of her hip. He kicked off his jeans, and slowly slid her leggings down, grazing his hands very lightly down the insides of her thighs as he did. Jo trembled slightly, and reached down to trace her fingers over his plain black boxers, around his cock that was hardening with impressive speed, causing a slight tent behind the cotton. With both of them just in their underwear, each took a moment to admire the other. Dean took in Jo's flat stomach, perfectly shaped breasts, flawless skin and long slender legs. Jo let her eyes wander around every taught, toned muscle, every faded scar on his golden tanned skin, the angels hand print that was burnt into his shoulder, and the impressive size of the man before her. 'There will never be a man this beautiful in front of me again, unless its him.' She thought. 'So I may as well take all the time to stare.' She continued to look, to stroke over his skin, to wonder at his beauty. She could have stayed there all day, but Dean had other ideas.

Kissing along her collarbone again, he stopped to slide off her bra strap of black lace, kissing down her breast, until his tongue flicked very gently over her nipple, as he took her bra off completely. Jo moaned a little, and pressed into him as he continued to kiss and nip slightly over her stiffened peaks, before moving on to the other breast. Jo gripped his biceps hard as he trailed his hand down from her breast, over her stomach, and to the inside of her thigh, at which point he removed her underwear. He then, very very slowly, slid his index finger into her glistening folds, tracing slightly around her entrance, before pushing in, until his whole finger was inside her. Jo wriggled down against him, to which he laughed at, before hesitantly and very carefully adding a second finger. Jo's breaths were fluttering little sighs and gasps as he started to move his fingers inside of her, crooking and twisting right until -

"Ah." Dean said. "Bingo." As he found the incredibly sensitive little spot with the tips of his fingers.

"Shut up." Jo muttered before gasping as his fingers ground hard against her g-spot, while his thumb simultaneously edged around her clitoris, rubbing harder and with more purpose as her gasps slowly turned to barely contained screams of ecstasy.

Dean was unbelievably turned on by this, but was determined to give Jo her full turn. He still caressed her breast with his free hand and his mouth, while she writhed around him, gripping his hair, shoulders, anything that her hands could find purchase on, even twisting her hands into the sheets as curses and begs flew from her lips.

"Don't stop. Oh my god Dean, don't stop!" She yelled out, grinding down onto his fingers. She kept on, as did he, each impressed at the others stamina. After a while, Jo, a sheen of sweat appearing over her slender body, lifted off of him slightly, breathing heavily. His fingers left her body, as did his mouth, and she sighed at the loss of his touch. She sat up slightly, and yanked down Dean's boxers, before taking ahold of his erect dick, feeling along his shaft, measuring out the impressive yet not too intimidating scale of him. He knocked her hands out of the way as a little bead of precome appeared, taking position over him and preparing to enter her. Always the gentleman, he looked at her for permission. Grinning, she shook her head ever so slightly, before grabbing his shoulders and flipping him over onto his back, before mounting him and slowly, oh so slowly, lowering herself onto him. Once in her, both kept completely still for a moment, as Jo steadied herself and took a breath. She leant forwards and kissed him, calmly and unhurriedly, but pressing her lips hard to his. His hands wrapped around her little waist, pressing her to him more, enjoying the feeling of having her body, trembling with heat, so close to him.

Jo's fingers twisted in his hair, pulling his face harder, much harder, into hers, their kiss becoming much more heated and desperate as Jo started to grind down against Dean, beautiful sensations and tremors running through their bodies. Jo pulled away from the kiss, both of them gasping for air, and slowly rose till she was properly seated, knees either side of him, sitting on top of him. Her hands were planted just below his chest on his tight abdominal muscles, that tensed and relaxed under her pretty hands. His hands gripped up at her hips and waist, driving her back onto him with more force. They both hitched in a breath together, before Jo began to move. Dean could never forget the sight of this stunning woman riding him, moving perfectly above him as he, lost in the throes of pleasure, ground her harder onto him, grunting as she brought him closer and closer to the edge.

Jo's nails dragged slightly over his stomach, leaving red traces of where her hands had previously been. She rotated against him, and trembled with bliss, before she lifted off him, torturously slowly, and equally slowly sliding back down. Both sighed, as she repeatedly lifted off before coming back down. Dean felt Jo's muscles contracting around him each time, in response to which his dick twitched deep within her.

"Jo..." He moaned as she continued to glide back onto him. "I need you to be...more...I need you too..." Jo put a finger to his lips, hushing him, her chocolate warm eyes melting at the sight of his amazingly green, tortured eyes almost disappearing with the size of enlarged pupils.

"You mean you need this?" She asked, sweetly, almost lifting off him until just the tip of his length remained inside her. She dropped back onto him, his dick hitting against her g-spot. Jo let out a hushed scream, while Deans eyes almost rolled back into his head. He then pushed her upwards by the hips, before yanking her back onto him, his hips snapping up to meet hers. Both groaned, and clenched around eachother, before repeating this action, over and over, faster and faster. Jo's breathing got quicker and quicker, and Dean gripped harder at her sculpted hips, choking out her name as he felt the pleasure building inside of himself. They grinded together, he pounded into her with equal force as she did drop herself onto him, jarring each others nerves and senses beyond anything either had felt before. Jo traced one hand as tenderly down Dean's face as she could manage. "We are not letting us not do this again, you hear me? Ever." She whispered. He gripped her wrist tightly, and nodded, each sharing the infinite moment of admitting that neither wanted any one again but the other. Then, the build of their climaxes came too strong to ignore, and they returned to the simple art of lovemaking. Jo dropped onto Dean with such force, Dean could almost feel his brain being blown out with unheard of bliss. He gasped.

"Jo." He cried, desperately. "Jo I can't hold on much longer!" She brought her hands to his stomach again, and moved only faster, pleasure shooting through her.

"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean." She chanted, feeling her climax lift her up, sweeping everything from her mind barring Dean, and this spectacular feeling coursing through her. He was desperate for her to reach her maximum pleasure, before he did, not wanting to end this thrilling ride for her, so he flung her onto him with more gusto. One hand sneaked up to her breasts, and took hold of her nipple, pinching and tweaking. "Dean. Dean." She moaned, hands raking against his skin. He thrusted into her again. "Dean..." She whined. As his other hand slid into her folds, just above her entrance, and pinched gently at her clitoris, she felt her climax reach the top.

"DEAN!" She shrieked as she came, the walls of her vagina clenching around him. The edges of her vision went white, as the extreme force of her orgasm hit her. Dean watched in awe. He felt himself let go, and shot his come into her, both riding out their orgasms, moaning together, until finally, having gotten every ounce of pleasure possible from each other, Jo fell off of Dean, and collapsed, nestled into his hot, exhausted body.

Dean kissed Jo on the forehead, but she tipped her chin up, and their lips met, softly, slowly, leisurely. She sighed and snuggled against him, still feeling his heat radiate into her body. "Did you mean it Jo?" Dean asked.

"Mean what?" She muttered sleepily. Dean stroked her face gently.

"About not ... Not doing this again?" He asked, nervously. Jo sat up a tiny bit, and curled her arm back around his head, pulling him down to kiss her again. She sighed against him in content.

"I'm just saying Dean-O. That was the best fuck I've ever had. And I'm not wasting time being with other people. Again." Dean smiled into her hair, squeezing her to him a little.

"Me too." He whispered, both sinking into a lazy dose. Their bodies relaxed into each others, comfortable and safe together. About half an hour later, Sam poked his head around the door, asking them to come down for breakfast. They looked so happy and simultaneously vulnerable though, wrapped around one another, protecting each other, Sam couldn't bring himself to wake them. When he went downstairs to report the sleeping couple, Ellen raised an eyebrow.

"They both dressed Winchester?" She asked. Sam hesitated for a moment, remembering the peacefully sleepy smile on Jo's face.

"Never seen either wearing more clothes Ellen." He said, grinning to himself. Ellen looked sharply at Sam, who put on his best poker face. After a moment, she shook her head, smiled and went to do the laundry.


	8. Certain Loopholes

**Hey guys, sorry it took so long - school started ugh. But here is chapter 8. Castiel is here! Notice the lingering looks from everyone, it'll matter later. The plots coming in together now, I know what I'm doing, so please enjoy and keep reading :)**

Sam and Dean Winchester had been staying with Jo and Ellen Harvelle for just under a fortnight. The four were sitting at the bar, drinking and laughing together, when Castiel appeared out of the blue, landing on the bar right in front of them. All of jumped, except Dean, who jumped up and hugged the angel. Cas' sapphire blue eyes surveyed the situation quickly.

"Listen to me." He commanded in his deep, gravelly voice. All four stilled, attention completely on the angel. "This Carmel. The demon. The remaining archangels have forbidden us from becoming involved in the situation, but my garrison being ... Well...dead, I have decided to follow this order with slight working through certain loopholes." Deans eyes followed Cas' without deviation, fixated on him. Cas studied Sam, Ellen, Jo and Dean individually, taking time to analyse them all, their body language, their emotions. Sam looked thoughtful, but a light sparkle in his eyes suggested he was happy to see his old friend. Ellen was looking worried, brooding, hand propping up her chin. She flashed a quick wink at Cas anyway, to which Cas blinked in surprise. Jo looked prettier than she had last time, more colour and warmth glowed in her cheeks, her puppy brown eyes shone brighter, her smile wider. Right now she paid almost no heed to Cas' scrutiny. Her eyes were only for Dean, watching his perfectly featured face dip into a slight frown. Dean cleared his throat as Cas sat down on the bar, a little too close to the four friends.

"Cas?" Dean said, keeping complete eye contact with his friend. "The loophole?" The angel frowned for a minute.

"Oh, right. It's you." He said, pointing at the whole group. Ellen rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. Everyone else turned to look at her.

"Cas, enough of this riddle shit, I want you to tell us straight what is happening."

Cas looked at Ellen for a long moment, before nodding and settling into a cross legged position.

"The angles were first made aware of an...abnormality in the whole humans dying and souls going one way or the other system, when you Harvelle's awoke in a hotel in Kansas. You remember nothing of your time in- death. Do you?" Cas stumbled over the word death, as of he had been going to say something else. Jo cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ellen shook her head slowly. Cas nodded, and continued. "After this was brought to our attention, we kept an eye on all pathways in and out of hell." Dean started to interrupt, as Cas hurriedly added. "And heaven. But anyway. The amount of demons having free access to leave hell was astounding. Everywhere, random doorways would open up, doors to hell. We had no chance of stopping it, so we decided to stop, sit back, and see what happened. Strangely, boys," he said, nodding at the Winchesters, "most opened up in Kansas. Near to your first home. As it turns out, this Demon Carmel, is highly powerful, she is in fact as big a threat as Azazel, or maybe even Lilith. Our difficulty is, that we have no idea of her intentions, other than how many evil souls, demons and monsters she is helping out of hell and purgatory. Luckily for you two girls, some good souls have also somehow escaped in and out. More and more are awakening all across America. You all with me?" He asked. Sam raised a hand, as if he were in class still.

"Souls are escaping from hell. Carmel seems to be raising an army but we don't know what for. The angels refuse to do anything." He said, bullet pointing the main issues. Cas nodded, accepting the criticism of his family. Dean frowned heavily, as did Ellen, both focusing on one thing.

"Cas." Dean said. "Souls are escaping from hell, so does that mean...are souls leaving heaven?" Cas shook his head. "So does that mean..."

"That Jo and I were in hell?" Ellen asked, glancing distractedly at her daughter. Cas took a deep breath.

"Yes. You were in hell. That, Sam, Dean, was why Ash hadn't come across their heaven. You were there, because Crowley way laid the crossroads to the afterlife. He took the souls that had caused him difficulty. You and Jo were a top priority, Ellen. Because you were taken out by some higher force also in hell, they took the time to remove traumatic memories of hell. If we shut all the doors down, we will ensure you don't return to hell. However...we can't stop your memories from returning."

Ellen paled considerably, but Jo's face remained stony calm. Jo butted in.

"Cas. The hunters that return, the ones that get out. Find a way to direct them all here, okay? We will build up our second roadhouse, and the hunters can all stay. We will work together, and bring down this army. Alright everyone?" Jo expected Ellen to argue, but no one made a sound. They all simply nodded behind her. Cas smiled at Jo. It was rare for her to experience a happy Cas, but she liked it.

"Joanna Harvelle. You are a very special woman, and I foresee that you shall play an important role in this battle - in this world even. Thanks for confirming my loophole. I wish you good luck, and I hope you shall find yourself not irreparably broken when your memories return." He disappeared in a flash. Jo's smile died as Cas' words sunk in. Dean shook his head. He was speechless. Sam helped Jo off of her stool, and they sat down at a table together, immediately drawing out Sam's laptop, locating places in Kansas. The Winchester home, the hotel she had woken in, anywhere that may be of relevance to the demons. Ellen jerked into action, picking up the phone and ordering boat loads of food, bedding, alcohol. Dean made his way up to his bedroom, and made the bed. He moved on to Jo's room, and sat for a moment. His Jo had been to hell. He shuddered at the idea of Alistair torturing her. At least she couldn't remember any of it...yet. Dean shook his head. Hell had messed him up badly once already, he wouldn't let hell hurt Jo. Or Ellen. Or his baby brother Sam. Dean thought about Cas. He hoped he'd see more of his friend, he'd missed him the last couple of months. Dean let his thoughts trail off into random trails, leading nowhere in particular. He frowned. Who could be trying to help good souls out of hell? Who would do that, that had power, in hell? He was jolted into reality when downstairs, a chorus of "RUFUS!" Went off.

In the bar, Rufus, Bobby's old hunting partner, appeared standing as Cas had on the bar. He got down a little shakily, but grinned at them all. "You girls get outta hell then?" He asked. "I reckon that's where I was to be honest." Ellen clapped him on the back, and passed him a half glass of whiskey. She had several, all lined up, ready for the shocked living dead to appear. After a few drinks, he turned around and talked to the group. They caught him up to speed with Carmel and the doors of hell. But he had one pressing question. "Where is Bobby?" He asked. Dean shortly answered as he got to the bottom of the staircase.

"Dead. But Sam got him into heaven. We're leaving him be. He was...very sorry to see you go, at his own hand. In fact, he couldn't quite get over it. Ever." Rufus nodded slowly, blinking back tears.

"I should've forgiven him when I had the chance." His voice cracked. Dean and Sam caught each others eye, remembering Bobby's utter desolation after Rufus' death.

"Yeah." They said together, coldly. "You should have."

Jo broke the silence by suggesting a rotation, shifts almost, of people to explain everything to the undead. She took the first shift. Dean drove out to buy more food, and blankets. Ellen ran around the house, making beds and tidying rooms, until every room had some kind of bedding or place in which so done could sleep. Dean was skeptical, but Ellen predicted many guests.

"Lots of people have pissed Crowley off Dean. He'll have kept back loads. We have to expect all of them to make it out."

Sam went to his room,exhausted. So far, hunters that had appeared were Rufus, Annie Hawkins, Tamara and her husband, as well as the Winchesters cousin, Gwen. All of them had their deaths, afterlife and comeback explained to them. So far, all of them took it well. Sam hadn't seen Tamara since the seven deadly sins - hadn't even realised she'd died. She was doing well, though there was some tension as she had seen other people since the death of Isaac. Sam didn't know how that would work out. He was glad to see Gwen back, although her and Dean were very cautious around each other, both aware that he had killed her - although it was an accident. Each newcomer took a bedroom, and set alarms for ten o'clock the next morning. As Sam opened the door and walked in, he found Dean sitting on the bed, flicking through a copy of Busty Asian Beauties.

"Aw man - do you have to do that in here Dean?" Sam complained. Dean looked up, grinning.

"Didn't know you'd stashed these Sam. Nice work." He winked, and patted the bed. Sam rolled his eyes, but sat down anyway. The two brothers sat cross legged facing each other. Dean winked again, and began trying to 'seduce' Sam with all kinds of ridiculous faces. Sam sighed and punched Dean, who tackled him down on the bed. Both were laughing now, mucking around like little children. Dean had missed being able to be young with Sam, and Sam had missed feeling this friendly, and close to Dean. Eventually both collapsed onto the bed, laughing and jabbing the others ribs.

"Sam?" Dean asked, after a moment of comfortable silence. "Who are you hoping will return most?" Sam sat and, and watched his older brother chewing his lip. Sam sighed, and shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. Dean snorted. "Apart from Dad and Bobby and people we know that went to heaven. Who do you most want to see again?"

Sam leaned back on the headboard, trying desperately not to think of, yet only thinking of Sarah. Why did he have to think of Sarah? He'd seen her what - twice? Twice over an eight year period. She had died a married woman, a mother, at the hands of Crowley. Sam felt to blame really, which left him with this painful stab of guilt every time he thought of her. Sam then thought of Jess. Would he want to see her again? Would he want her back? The biggest tragedy in Sam's life was the loss of Jess, yet now, eight years later, Sam wasn't sure what Jess would think of him. So much had happened since that night. Jess hadn't even known the whole of Sam, whereas Sarah had known the most about Sam anyone had ever known, barring Dean, and other hunters. Sarah had respected him for saving her, but hadn't cowered in the corner. She'd been willing to get up and help herself rather than make others help her. And when she died, Sam was left with a bitter taste in his mouth every single damn day. He wasn't sure what it meant. He wouldn't claim to have been in love with her. But he did think his life would get a decent bit brighter if Sarah walked back into it.

Dean watched Sam, lost in his own world. Dean sighed. He had thought he'd been suffering over Jo. Maybe Sam was thinking of someone too.

'Damn it, Sammy." He said. Sam turned to look at him, galaxy eyes lost and thoughtful. "We Winchesters sure have got a thing for unreachable dead girls huh?"

Sam snorted.

"The issue is Dean, that you got your dead girl. And I don't see mine."


End file.
